


Like Magic

by angweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attraction, Compatibility, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Healers, Magic, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Romance, Under the Influence of Horcruxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-03-30 23:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19037680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angweasley/pseuds/angweasley
Summary: Harry's magic becomes erratic soon after Voldemort's fall. Hermione is there to help him, as always, but could she possibly have more to do with the cause for this rather than the solution?





	1. Theory

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another one of my H/Hr story ideas come to life! This is what happens when you get distracted from your WIP... at least for me.

Harry thought he'd experienced as much as one could by defeating a dark sorcerer. He thought he'd done and given enough by ending a war while still a teenager. He thought Fate would finally look away from him and turn her attention to someone else after 18 years. He thought he was done with anomalies in the magical world but he apparently thought wrong, because, now- now- there was something weird going on with his very magic.

The months after Voldemort's fall were emotional, hectic, confusing and promising and, initially, Harry did not notice something was off. There were random, sparse instances with his magic that he did not pay much attention to because they seemed so mundane; he could not have correctly identified when they even started.

However, the wizard did eventually begin to take more notice of these strange occurrences and the first one he was fully cognizant of happened during lunch with Ron and Hermione. The trio had gone to a restaurant and requested to sit outside due to the accommodating July weather, and they were all in a pleasant mood during the meal despite the gawkers watching them. And it was only gawking, as privacy charms kept anyone from hearing them and their combined fame intimidated anyone from approaching them during the meal.

The general mood of the lunch was jovial. They were so focused on how good it felt merely being there, alive and content and  _together_. Hermione had laughed at something her boys said, a tinkling, delighted laugh that had been missing from her since the war took a grisly turn in sixth year with Dumbledore's death, and, moments later, she gestured and smacked her glass of juice; the liquid went rushing in the other direction of the circular table, surprising them. All three stopped and peered at the accident before Harry took out his wand and declared that he would right it. He succeeded in getting the juice back in the glass and having it sit upright again, but only a split second later and the glass slammed the opposite way, all of the liquid spraying on Hermione's face and chest like it had come out of a hose.

They all froze at this as the wizards stared at Hermione, Harry with a gaping mouth and Ron with wide eyes. She appeared stunned and did not have a reaction, at first. But then Harry found his voice and was apologizing profusely, insisting he had no idea what had happened as he had not meant to do that ("I reckon I overshot? I'm so sorry!"). When the witch finally did react, it was to laugh. She laughed because it had been unexpected, because she knew it was accident, and because she probably looked ridiculous and knew this would find its way into a newspaper or magazine, not helped by the sheer amount of people watching them.

But she mostly laughed simply because she could. Hermione laughed because she had made it through a war at practically nineteen years old with the two people who meant the most to her in the wizarding world, both of whom were relieved that she was taking the juicing so well. She used her own wand to dry herself so she appeared as if nothing had happened, and the trio returned to its lunch, not giving any more mind to Harry's extreme display of magic.

One week later, they were at Grimmauld Place in one of the home's abundant rooms when Harry took a seat and then used his wand to close the door behind them. The door slammed shut so loudly that all three jumped and Hermione's hand went to cover her mouth when they observed two, long splinters manifest in the wood seconds later from the force of it. She looked at Harry questioningly and he could only grimace when Ron sarcastically asked his best friend if he believed he closed the door hard enough.

Then, there was the incident at the Ministry of Magic.

Ron and Harry (and Neville) had taken up the government's offer of joining the Auror Academy based on their accomplishments in the war, despite missing NEWTS, and Minister Shacklebolt had been more than happy to welcome them. Hermione was happy for her boys and went with them to pick up the stack of paper they would need to fill out before returning the following week for a physical examination and practical examination in dueling. (The week after that, the two would officially begin the Academy with twelve other wizards and witches).

For her part, Hermione had chosen to complete her final year of school but was not doing so the traditional way by returning to Hogwarts, as Ginny was. She was going to receive a curriculum for her seventh year and study independently before taking her NEWTS in January. She had until June to finish her studies and take the exams, which is what the Patil twins were doing, but she believed she did not need that much time to complete the work, which was an accurate assessment due to the witch's intellect. Hermione also wanted to be able to start working as soon as possible so that meant January and not June.

She had chosen to not return to school because, after spending a year on the run facing impossible odds, the thought of going back to a boarding school at age 19, where she would be locked away for nine months, was one that she could not stomach. What was more, it would have kept her away from Harry and Ron, which she could not imagine. That year had been hell for them but brought them even closer together, especially Hermione and Harry, and if she were separated from them, she could not do things like go with them to start their Auror careers. Or witness Harry's odd displays of magic, such as him holding the stack of paperwork and being led to a table to fill it out with a gentle hand from Hermione on his back before all of the paper went flying erratically in four different directions.

Physically going away to school would also have meant that Hermione missed her two best friends moving into an apartment together. The trio had resided at the Burrow until the middle of June, at which point Harry went to Grimmauld. Hermione went with him so he would not be alone, yet when Ron said he could go as well, the pair insisted he needed to be with his family to mourn Fred, which he did. However, the brunettes still frequented the Weasleys often and their youngest son could be found at Grimmauld on occasion.

Thus, when Harry and Ron decided to get a place in September, it seemed like a step everyone was ready for as, by this point, Hermione had her parents back. Two Ministry employees who were renowned for their work with memory charms had accompanied the witch to Australia in late August to reverse her work and, one week later, the Muggleborn had returned to England with her parents and a hole in her heart repaired. She moved back in with them but she was there to help her boys move in (which only took one day) and get settled (which took a week). They had a housewarming party two weeks after arriving and crammed a large number of people into a two bedroom apartment but no one seemed to mind. Most everyone they cared about was present and it was a good time.

Incidentally, it was also when Harry experienced another magical outburst. He had been in the kitchen when Hermione wandered her way inside, pushing the number of occupants in the room up to two.

"Harry, there you are!" she stated, smiling at him.

"Looking for me?" he wondered, giving a half smile.

"Not necessarily."

"Ouch."

She laughed and then said:

"Seamus was asking after you, actually."

"Was he?" Harry prompted.

"Yes. Well, asking  _about_ you, more like. About a… situation."

"What situation?"

He was looking at Hermione with a raised eyebrow and she made a bit of a face, looking fairly apologetic.

"With Ginny," she attested. There was a stint of blunt silence.

"Oh."

"I told him I wasn't certain…"

"Yeah, well… there's not much to tell. She's away 'til June and we're not together." Harry remarked, looking away.

It had been at the start of July when Ginny and Harry revisited the topic of romance. Initially, it was slightly awkward; her brother had only been dead for two months and he was still reeling from Voldemort's demise, which were the two essential reasons both were unprepared to try again. The discomfort vanished with honesty and Harry stated he felt like a different person from the year away, and wanted to be better overall before he became a boyfriend once more. Ginny understood and pointed out that she was going back to Hogwarts as well, which would put a strain on anything they attempted to get going.

It felt nice being on the same page and Harry even agreed with her comment that the following summer might be a much better time to embrace romance again if things aligned for them. Nevertheless, he was shocked when Ginny ended the conversation by practically jumping on him and kissing him like the world was ending. It did not prevent him from participating in the lip lock for those few, fervid minutes but Harry was undoubtedly shocked. Since then, though, nothing else had passed between the pair that was not platonic.

Hermione nodded and her cautious demeanor faded. Harry was not vocal about his feelings regarding Ginny but he had made it clear to her and Ron, more so her, that the pair was not going to rekindle its relationship in the foreseeable future because of the timing. If there was anything more to it Hermione did not know because he did not share, something that, for some reason, made her both upset and relieved.

"Well, I did come in here for a reason that was not to pester you about your ex-girlfriend," she mentioned.

"That was just a bonus, yes?" Harry responded, flashing a short smile and pulling a genuine one from her.

"I need a new glass, actually. Will you hand me one?"

He nodded and moved swiftly to open one of the cabinets for the requested glass, but when he grabbed the knob and pulled it out, every single cabinet door in the kitchen flew open with soft BANGS at the same time. Hermione took a step back in alarm and a hand went over her heart while Harry merely stood and stared into the cabinet he had physically opened, blinking a couple times. When he finally turned back around to face her, he appeared sheepish.

"Er… so which glass do you want?" he asked.

The peculiar shows of magic only increased from there. Those close to Harry noticed and started to make remarks, conveying their confusion, but by the time October was coming to a close, they expressed concern. He took Molly's advice and went to St. Mungos for a checkup (despite the fact that he had had a thorough one before starting the Academy), but when he was given a clean bill of physical and magical health, Hermione took it upon herself to research. Harry assured her she did not have to as she had her NEWTs preparation and nothing outrageous was happening during his Auror training, at least, but she would hear none of it.

"This is not additional stress for me, Harry, or a burden. I  _want_ to do this!," the witch asserted, a large book from the Black family library perched in front of her, "We need to figure out what's going on with your magic. It's important! We need to make sure you're okay. You have to be okay!"

Hermione took his hand then and he nodded, knowing she would care more about  _not_ being able to research on his behalf. She cared about him too much to let this go. Consequently, numerous books went flying off the shelves only seconds later and she gripped his hand as a reflex to her surprise before peering at him in stubborn determination and returning to the tome.

Two weeks later, Hermione handed Harry a piece of parchment with a triumphant smile.

"Egor Meknikov?" he questioned, reading the name that was on the paper.

"He's a Russian Healer  _and_  scholar. He specializes in magic abnormalities! He has published works, nearly 25 years worth of experience, and is well respected in his field. I think he'd be able to help you! We haven't had much luck searching for answers on our own," the witch explained.

"Magic abnormalities? My magic's not-"

"Harry, you Summoned your glasses two days ago and they zipped right past you and left a dent in the wall from the strength of the spell.  _Don't_  say your magic's not abnormal."

"Only since the summer." Harry mumbled, looking at the parchment once more.

"Contact him and set up an appointment. He's based in Frankfurt," Hermione instructed, "Ron and I will go with you, if you'd like."

Harry felt reticence but he did as he was told, even if it took five days for him to reach out to to this Meknikov fellow. Additionally, his best friends did travel to Germany with him for the first appointment, for support and as a safety precaution. (One could never be too careful with embittered followers of a dark lord out there). Meknikov was a nice enough wizard and gave off a subtle warmth but it did not do much for how guarded Harry was those 90 minutes. The Healer had mostly spent the time trying to get to know more about him and the only questions he asked about Harry's magic pertained to how long it had been happening and for specific examples. Hermione was anxious to hear how it went when the trio returned to the boys' apartment and even more anxious when she asked Harry if he was going to return. Knowing it would make her happy and thinking he might actually get some helpful information out of the ordeal, he agreed.

Conversely, Harry was reluctant share anything too meaningful about his magical experiences within the past year the first handful of appointments, mostly because they involved Voldemort and were quite personal. Meknikov understood the younger man's hesitancy and obliged it to a degree, but he reminded Harry after session number four that they could not make headway if he was not open.

"It's necessary to understand what's happening to you, Harry, and I can only help if I understand," the Healer noted.

Hermione reiterated this sentiment one Sunday afternoon when they were having tea at Ron's and Harry's.

"I know it may be scary, or painful," she remarked, looking at him with concern, "But... do you think he wants the information to use against you, or hurt you?"

"No," negated Harry in a solemn voice.

"Then just be honest, Harry. He wants to help."

"Yeah. And we do too," Ron added, "We want to make sure you don't end up offing yourself with your magic one of these days!"

Hermione peered at Ron with a wholly unimpressed, annoyed expression but Harry cracked a smile.

"Ron's horrible choice of words aside, yes- we want the help for you, too," she stated.

Sighing, their best friend nodded and twirled his wand in his fingers absentmindedly. All of the living room's hangings then ripped off the windows and Harry froze in his spot. Hermione's inhale of breath was audible as was the curse word Ron muttered, their eyes on the fallen cloth. Harry was still frozen and refused to look at them when they attuned to him again.

"Mate, if you don't tell him, I will." Ron claimed, clapping the other wizard firmly on the shoulder.

* * *

It was January when Harry revealed to Meknikov that he had been a Horcrux and it was January when everything changed. Most of their sessions ran between an hour to an hour and a half but the session where Harry shared the Horcrux information had been two hours. It was a heavy session and Meknikov already possessed knowledge about the dark artifacts, which did not surprise the younger wizard. Meknikov mostly asked clinical questions and added input but they did not delve into anything deeper, something that Harry quietly appreciated. The Healer asked him if he had experienced any magic fluctuation before having the Horcrux removed, which was denied, and then he sent Harry on his way with the simple instruction to take a month's worth of observations of his magic.

"Place, time, and the people present." Meknikov stated, earning a nod from the other man, "We'll hold off meeting again until then."

Harry started his observations the following day, although there were no oddities. There were more than enough during the month, however, and they did not seem to abate. There was one night where the trio was out with many of the members of Dumbledore's Army at a pub and the large table was noticeably dirty. Instead of waiting for a worker to come clean it, Harry took it upon himself to do the task but his Scouring Charm was a bit powerful and cleaned the table too well- so well that he put a hole in it. There was another incident where Harry and Hermione found themselves at the Burrow out in the yard. Harry found a gnome who braved the cold to wreck a bit of havoc so he intervened by using his wand to throw it across the yard. The problem was that he exceeded throwing the thing and ended up launching it, causing Ron to put an arm in front of Hermione and take a step back.

There was also an episode at the Grangers' home. Hermione took and passed all of her NEWTs with O's during the latter part of January, surprising absolutely no one, but, regardless, they celebrated her over a number of days with genuine pride. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had a dinner for her on a Sunday and the witch invited her best friends, although Ron could not make it because he had to work an evening shift that was usually reserved for rookie Aurors. Hermione looked positively happy throughout the meal and it only slipped into a look of consternation when Harry levitated the post-meal dishes and they flew into the ceiling before crashing to the floor in pieces. He was embarrassed and Mrs. and Mr. Granger were shocked, and, in hindsight, he realized it had been a questionable decision to take care of the dishes himself.

Harry returned to Meknikov after his period of observation feeling grimmer but also determined. The Healer looked over the notes and had questions before before offering his thoughts.

"Did you notice anything about your bursts of magic?" Meknikov inquired. Harry accepted the paper back and took a long moment before replying.

"I realized I'm hardly ever alone when they happen," he answered. The older wizard nodded and gave a slight smile.

"Yes. And the one instance you were alone- tell me about that."

"It happened after I woke up from a nightmare."

"What was the nightmare about?" Meknikov pondered. Harry frowned as he stared at the parchment in his hand. The Healer had just read through everything so he knew what the nightmare had been about.

"Hermione was being tortured at the Malfoys' manor." Harry responded.

"You told me about this, yes."

"She… she didn't make it. In my nightmare."

There was extended silence before Meknikov's low, soothing voice was speaking once more.

"Ms. Granger, yes. Let's talk about her," he attested.

Harry brought his head up and stared at the Healer, furrowing his brow.

"What about her?" he inquired in a cautious tone.

"Well, one thing I noticed is that she was present every time your magic went awry. Even in the nightmare, she was there."

This declaration stunned the dark haired wizard and he gaped before shuffling through his notes to confirm it. When it proved true, he raked through other moments in his mind of magical instability before the past month and realized it also held true. How did he not catch that himself?

"That's… that's not  _too_ surprising. I'm with her all the time; it's always been like that. We're best friends," he explained, running a hand through his hair.

"But of course," Meknikov said, "You care a great deal for her, yes?"

"Of course I do."

"She was the one who suggested you see me."

"She was really concerned about my magic." Harry mentioned. Meknikov nodded.

"Can you tell me more about your relationship with her?" he prompted. Harry narrowed his eyes, not understanding what this had to do with his magical problems.

"She's one of my closest friends, like I said. Best friend, since I was 11. She worries a lot about me and goes out of her way to help me."

"Has there ever been major conflict between the two of you?"

"Not really," negated Harry, "Nothing serious. There was this fight over a broom when I was 13 and it was serious to me then but that was nothing, in retrospect. She's… Hermione's the one person who's never left my side since I found out I was a wizard. I can't even say that for Ron."

"So Ms. Granger is important to you," the Healer concluded.

"Very."

"Has your magic been unstable before this, around her or in general?"

"Not before summer, no." Harry remarked, shaking his head.

"So it only happened after the Horcrux was removed."

The dark haired wizard stared at the other man and paused, his heart thumping faster after the statement. It was another fact he had missed, simple yet glaring. His magic's unpredictability only started after that odious part of Voldemort had been exorcized from him.

"You think it's connected?" he inquired in a low voice.

"I do," Meknikov confirmed.

"How?"

"Horcruxes are dark magic, as you very well know. They suppress or emphasize certain emotion. Magic stems from emotion and is necessary for many spells, but magic is also linked to companionship- the interpersonal bonds wizards and witches have with others. Relationships are steeped in emotion and, accordingly, can affect one's magic."

Harry thought of Tonks during sixth year, when she was grieving because of Remus' rejection of her desires and feelings. He nodded absentmindedly.

"As for its relevance to you and your situation, well… I wonder if your magic is responding to your feelings for Ms. Granger, unrestricted, without the Horcrux in the way," Meknikov continued, "I wonder if what you truly feel for her is more than platonic."

There was loaded silence in which Harry stared at the Healer, dumbfounded.

" _What_?" the young man asked in a sharp tone. Meknikov flashed a modest smile and then replied:

"Harry, you have a remarkably strong relationship with Ms. Granger-"

"Yeah, because she's my  _best friend_!"

The Russian wizard held up his hand in a placating, entreating manner and waited a handful of seconds before explaining further.

"As I mentioned, Horcruxes suppress or emphasize particular emotions," he commenced, "Perhaps your  _other_  feelings for your best friend were buried beneath that piece of the Dark Lord, locked away because they were too good, too bright or pure, for the Horcrux. It may be that those feelings can now exist freely without the dark influence and your magic is responding accordingly, and it may seem so strong because your feelings have been subdued for so long."

What was Meknikov proposing? He believed Harry had repressed romantic feelings for Hermione and  _that_ was why his magic was haywire?

It was preposterous! His reasoning was flawed and Harry could not accept it. How did it make sense?!

"No. No. That's… no. That's not it. It's not to do with Hermione." Harry asserted, shaking his head in denial.

"You don't think so?" the Healer pondered, quirking his own head.

"I know so! Just because she's been there every time my magic's gone barmy doesn't mean!... look, I'd  _know_  if I had deeper feelings for her, don't you think? That can't be why my magic's messed up!"

"It's not 'messed up', Harry, it's simply reacting. And why can't that be the reason?"

"Because I should know my own feelings for her!," Harry declared, frantically waving a hand, "I've been around her for years and I've never had this problem with my magic before!"

"We've already established the Horcrux was present before." Meknikov told him.

"So?! Besides, how would that theory explain my feelings for Ginny, then? Because I had them and they were strong! Why were those not also repressed?"

"Based on what you told me about that relationship, it seems the feelings you had for Ms. Weasley worked  _with_ the nature of the Horcrux. This is likely why they were not stifled."

It was quiet yet again but the pause was fleeting.

"And what exactly would work with that abomination of magic, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry prompted through clenched teeth. He was exceptionally irritated right now and wanted to go off on the Healer, for insinuating his feelings for Ginny had been dark somehow but for also acting like he had some secret knowledge of Harry's feelings regarding Hermione. He  _wasn't_  Harry and he could not tell him how he felt!

"Jealousy. Lust." Meknikov offered in a measured tone.

The aggravation instantly evaporated and the young wizard was doused in shock once more. He did not register that he was blushing as he gazed at the other man. He was too busy thinking of sixth year and the monster that had roared in his chest whenever he saw Ginny with Dean, and of the plentiful, risque thoughts about her that had plundered his mind. What was more, his relationship with her had been short before he had to break it off, and it had been mostly physical. There was still a lot about Ginny he did not know.

"Consider what your feelings for Ms. Weasley have been since the war's end. Consider if your magic flares around her as it does when you are with Ms. Granger."

Harry did as instructed. His magic had not spiraled once during any time he had been alone with Ginny since May, and all the times it had gone berserk when she was around, Hermione had also present. Hermione, who Meknikov was suggesting...

He was flabbergasted. There was no other way to describe it. Harry did not know what to think and merely sat and stared at the floor.

"Your magic will presumably remain unstable until you work out your feelings for your best friend. You seem baffled, and rather upset, that you could be harboring another layer of emotion regarding her but I recommend you analyze your feelings seriously." Meknikov relayed.

"And if I do, and  _if_ you happen to be right?" Harry responded, exhaling and sounding weary.

"Then your magic should stabilize- it should stabilize with your acceptance. And if Ms. Granger so happens to have similar feelings for you, then it will not only settle but it will flourish as well. Your magic will likely bind with hers, to a degree."

The younger wizard felt his face flush a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. All of this was disconcerting.

"What can I do apart from that to control my magic? Or in the meantime, while I'm… thinking about all this?" he muttered.

"The easiest thing to do would be stay away from Ms. Granger since she is the catalyst."

Harry made an offronted face and questioned:

"What? Who said that's easy?!"

"It is the simplest solution, Harry," the Healer stated.

"Well I don't like it. I can't stay away from Hermione for Merlin knows how long. She's…. No. I won't do it. I'll just have to deal with my magic as it is, then."

Meknikov nodded his acquiescence and managed to hide a soft smile Harry's reaction had elicited. It was silent once more and it last longer than the other times.

"So that's all there is, then? Contemplate my… my feelings?" Harry posed.

"Indeed. Your magic is unpredictable right now but it is powerful, and it is powerful because it is responding to a source with the same amount of strength: your bond with and feelings for Ms. Granger." Meknikov replied.

Harry could only sigh and give a defeated nod.

* * *

Hermione started working at the Ministry in March and had spent all of February deciding on the multitude of career options her intelligence and reputation had provided. She was thrilled on her first day in the Department of International Magical Cooperation and her boys, parents, and the Weasleys had happiness to mirror hers. Ron and Harry were excited to have her join them at the Ministry, finally, and they did their best to see her whenever their lunches and schedules aligned.

Accordingly, Harry did as he was told and started to analyze his feelings for Hermione, despite his disbelief over Meknikov's theory. His magic continued to spiral but it was different now that he was aware of a possible explanation for it and, whether he questioned the explanation or not, knowing there was one was somewhat alleviating. Hermione had wanted to know what his last appointment entailed and he informed her that Meknikov provided a hypothesis for his magic; when she inquired what it was, Harry did his best to not turn red and informed her he could not say yet because he was still doing observations and it might compromise that. The brunette witch appeared mostly satisfied and let it be.

Overall, Harry felt his feelings for the witch were the same- mostly- just as he assumed they would be. He still enjoyed spending time with her, still felt exasperation when she nagged (but not frustration or annoyance because he knew it was simply an extension of Hermione's care), and was still protective over her. And maybe he  _did_ feel marginally more protective than he had in the past, which was saying something, but the wizard reasoned that was because they had survived  _so_  much and he would be damned if she endured it all in vain. The year on the run had also been fraught with extreme danger and it was a second reason Harry justified the modest increase in protectiveness.

Another unimportant difference he noticed was that he was a bit more concerned about Hermione's feelings. He seemed more compelled to tend to them if they were not positive and ensure they remained positive when they were. Harry figured he felt a little happier when she was and her smile frequently pulled one from him, something he had not really noticed before the purposeful inspection of his feelings. Again, he attributed this to the protectiveness and his belief that Hermione deserved nothing but goodness after years of tribulation. He also just felt lighter himself and his feelings felt much less heavy than they ever had, but that made sense considering the Horcrux was gone.

So, yeah- there were some differences Harry noticed but nothing major, and  _nothing_  that suggested he was, and had been, in love with Hermione. Besides, he shuddered to imagine Ron's reaction if he knew the Healer believed Harry's magic was uncontrollable due to strong but hidden romantic feelings for the witch.

Considering Ron in relation to Meknikov's theory always brought down Harry's mood without fail. The red head was not dating Hermione and nothing direct had happened between the two since that kiss during the Battle of Hogwarts, but it was often apparent through subtle actions that Ron still carried a torch for her. It made Harry uncomfortable whenever Ron did display them and that discomfort had only grown since his last session with Meknikov. Before, Harry rationalized it was odd because they were his closest friends and seeing them together was so foreign, yet now there was guilt on top of it. Guilt for how Ron would feel about Harry's own completely alleged feelings for their female companion. Harry also did not know why the red head had not made a move or explicitly expressed an interest in her, or why Hermione had not, for that matter, but he was  _not_  going to ask and make things even more awkward.

Thus, Harry strove to merely block out thoughts of Ron during March when contemplating over Hermione to avoid the guilt and melancholy mood. It worked.

But then April arrived… and everything got turned on its head for Harry.

Ginny and Luna came home from Hogwarts for Easter and it was reason for mirthful reunions. Harry also jumped at the chance to use their presence to consider his feelings for Ginny, in relation to what they once were and comparing them to Hermione. He was happy to see his ex-girlfriend, no doubt, just like he had been for the winter break. He laughed and joked with her like before, bonded over Quidditch like before, and, admittedly, he noticed her physical attractiveness, like before. But… something was different. Something was missing from the well in Harry's mind that was labeled 'Ginny.'

What was more, it didn't feel sudden. It was more that this something had disappeared bit by bit and seeing the red headed witch during her short break from school made it click into place for him that  _it_ , whatever it was, was fully gone. It was not the same feeling as the one Harry had for Hermione (although he could not have explained why) and it was not even the same feeling as the one he had for Ginny a year ago. He postulated that her time away these past seven months had altered his feelings for her before he realized that it went beyond her seventh year.

Harry had been 16 when he was hooked on Ginny and he was 18 now. A difference of two years and, when he thought about it, he realized that they had been mostly apart for those two years. The Horcrux hunt and now her seventh year… there was consistent distance between them when there should have been togetherness to foster their budding relationship. Harry realized their prolonged time apart is what likely caused the  _it_ to disappear. While it did make him feel sad to a degree, there was also content acceptance in the understanding that it was likely just not in the stars for him to have another shot at romance with Ginny.

It was rather like finishing a good and intense chapter of a book before moving onto the next. And the next chapter? The next chapter started off with a bang and left you bamboozled.

On Ginny's second to last night of vacation, she had planned a girls night with Hermione, Luna, the Patil twins, and Hannah Abbott. She and Hermione were going to meet the four other women at the dance club and the pair got ready at Ron's and Harry's apartment to avoid the critical eye of Molly at the Burrow. They kicked Ron out of his room and commandeered it for almost an hour, which caused the wizard to leave after half an hour in order to go visit George, declaring he would return when "my room is devoid of music and giggling witches!" He asked Harry if he wanted to join but his best friend denied, amused by the situation and not at all flustered by the women.

Of course, this meant that Harry was left to deal with the reality of their effort and work on their appearance by himself. He had no one to play off his reaction with or no one to distract him from the sight of the pair, and he was caught wholly off guard. One of the witches opened the door a couple minutes before their departure and he walked past it as he made his way from his room to the living room. He casually glanced inside and saw that they were talking intently about something in Ginny's hand, and then he saw what they were wearing.

Harry's mouth dropped open and he stared at his friends before some semblance of sense activated within him and he jerked himself back out of view of the door. His heart was pumping faster as he processed what he saw. Ginny was wearing a snug black dress that made her hair stand out in a fantastic way while Hermione… gosh, Hermione. Her dress was not as spicy as the younger woman's but it was just as appealing in Harry's opinion. It left so much to be admired! She was wearing a burgundy, velvet dress that flared out at her waist and showed the absolute  _perfect_ amount of cleavage. It was modest but it was there, beckoning for one's imagination to run rampant, and it was the realization that he was actively looking at and thinking about Hermione's cleavage that made Harry reel back in the first place.

Breathing a bit heavier, the wizard made a run for his room. He closed the door once inside and leaned against it, grimacing and staring at his bed. He was overrun by thoughts and shaken out of them three minutes later when there was a knock from the other side of the barrier. It startled him a bit.

"Harry?," Hermione called, looking at the closed door, "We're leaving now."

"A-All right!" he answered, shutting his eyes. There was a moment of silence before Ginny questioned:

"Are you going to come out and see us off, as a gentleman would?"

Harry could practically hear her smirk and took time before replying himself.

"I'm not a gentleman," he said. She gave a humorous snort and Hermione smiled.

"You lie, Harry Potter," the brunette told him. His lips tightened at the tender tone of her voice.

"You two go have fun. Be safe." There was another pause although this one was rather awkward.

"Okay…"

Ginny made something of a discouraged face while Hermione frowned and removed her hand from the door. They may not have been wholly aware but both were disappointed Harry was not going to come out and see them.

"You're… you're coming to Grimmauld when the night ends, right?" he asked after they had taken a couple steps away from his room. The pair halted. The trio and Ginny decided to have the girls spend the night at Grimmauld Place when their fun was over so they would not have to disturb the Granger or Weasley parents, or have to be interrogated in case they returned inebriated. There was also more room in the townhome than the boys' apartment.

"Yes," confirmed Hermione.

"Right. Good. We'll be there. Probably leave when Ron gets back."

"Okay."

"And don't forget to send for us if you need help getting home!" Harry added, opening his eyes.

"Oh, Harry- I thought you weren't a gentleman! All of this concern is becoming of one." Ginny remarked, grinning. The brunette chuckled.

"Just get out of my flat, Weasley. I'll see you later."

The witches laughed and were gone shortly thereafter, leaving Harry alone. He sighed and felt his heart rate begin to slow down. Now that they were gone, he could breathe normally and get a hold of himself. All right, that had been a very strong and unexpected reaction to seeing his friends dressed up. But it made sense! He did not see them made up like  _that_ hardly ever, and it had been even more of a shock to see Hermione dressed so enticingly. However, the wizard told himself it was just a dress and not even a revealing one, so why had it seemed to captivating to him? An image of her chest flashed in his mind and Harry made a face like he was sucking on a lemon. He pushed it away and chastised himself for thinking of his best friend's cleavage, warning his brain to not do it again.

Harry's mind complied, in a sense. He did not visualize Hermione's chest the rest of the night (well… maybe  _once_ more) but he did mull over why he had such a jarring reaction upon seeing her, and Ginny, in her club outfit. Ron came back an hour after the girls had gone and they went to Grimmauld half an hour after that. Being in Ron's presence again silenced the rounds of thoughts bounding in Harry's head, as did the card game they played that mandated the loser drink his share of Firewhiskey until the winner decided he could stop. (They both lost a round).

It was 1:30AM when sleepiness overtook them both but Hermione and Ginny were still out. Ron declared he was going to his designated room to sleep while Harry chose to stay awake and wait for the girls, reasoning it would not be  _too_  much longer. He occupied himself with a Quidditch magazine once by himself and, when he finished with that, he stared into the sitting room's hearth and thought of Meknikov's theory about his magic. It did not seem as crazy as it initially did but he still had trouble believing it. Romantic feelings for Hermione!...

Harry dozed off in the armchair at some point only to be yanked out of his light sleep by the bodily sensation of a ripple going through him. He gave a great start and blinked in rapid succession before peering at the room's clock. It was nearly 3AM and he knew right away what that sensation had been: someone was at Grimmauld's front door. Harry got up and hurried to the entryway of the townhome to let Ginny and Hermione inside, knowing it had to be them.

He was greeted by the sight of two happy looking witches when he opened the door and it did not take much time for him to comprehend that they were tipsy.


	2. Application

"Harry! You're awake!" Ginny proclaimed with a luminescent smile. She was standing very closely to Hermione and they looked mostly the same as they had when they left, except they had the air of people who had been out for a number of hours.

"I had to let you in, didn't I?" he answered.

"Did you wait up for us this whole time?"

"You are  _so_ a gentleman! I told you that you lied." Hermione said, pushing his shoulder. He smiled faintly at her.

"You are too sweet to be anything else, Potter!" Ginny attested.

"Just come inside and stop complimenting me." Harry replied, moving to give them room. He could feel his face starting to warm from their words.

"Last time I saw you, you ordered me to get out. Now you're ordering me to come in."

"A bossy gentleman, then." Hermione remarked, giggling.

"Yes!" added Ginny, grinning.

" _Hermione_ is calling  _me_  bossy?" he wondered in disbelief. The red head laughed loudly then said:

"Oy, good point!"

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side!" the brunette asserted, whirling on Ginny.

"We can continue this lively discussion about Hermione's bossiness in the kitchen so you don't wake Ron," Harry stated, gesturing the way, "We can get you some water, too."

"We don't  _need_  water, Harry." Ginny noted.

"No, we don't. And I'm not bossy!" Hermione insisted.

"Too late about the waking Ron bit," a voice evenly interjected.

Ron stood at the top of the staircase and was gazing down at the trio with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Brother!" his sister uttered as he descended the stairs.

"It sounds like you had a good time, then."

"We did."

"Have enough to drink?" Ron asked, looking between the young women. Hermione narrowed her eyes but Ginny had words.

"Nuh uh. Nope! No judgment,  _Ronald_! I never get on  _you_  when you drink! Which is more often than me!" she warned.

"We drank some tonight," mumbled Harry. The other wizard glared at him with a look of betrayal while Ginny gave a triumphant scoff.

"We are allowed to drink! We are  _all_ adults here." Hermione stated, huffing and crossing her arms. Harry gave half a grin.

"Yes, yes! It was just a question," defended Ron, although the witches did not seem convinced, "Just… want to make sure you're all right, is all." "

"We are  _fine_ as you can see."

Hermione threw out her arms and twirled on the spot to make the point but her foot got caught in the foyer rug and she went rushing to the floor without a chance of righting her balance. Harry's natural reflexes reared at the sight and he shot forward to intervene; he caught her before she fell and cradled her in his arms with a secure grip around her middle.

"Oops! Damn it," she uttered, laughing once.

Harry heard Ginny's peal of laughter and Ron's skeptical comment about their "all right" state but he was more focused on Hermione. She appeared highly amused and her face was colored. Was she wearing makeup?... she was, wasn't she? It was light but it was there. Makeup. Had she done it or Ginny? The brunette also felt warm, but that was to be expected if she had consumed a good amount of alcohol. She did not smell like liquor, either… he could somewhat detect that sweet yet earthy scent that he realized- noticed- she wore during sixth year.

"Thank you, Gentleman Harry," Hermione bid, smiling at him. He nodded, still studying her face and holding her up. He had never asked her what that scent was… maybe he should. It was nice.

The Weasleys said something but it sounded far away to Harry. He was now noticing how the velvet of her dress felt under his fingers and was a bit amazed. The texture was so appealing! Did Hermione also think the fabric felt this good? He rubbed her sides unawares and pulled her closer, going back to observing her makeup. The witch's mirthful demeanor began to fade when she felt Harry's embrace around her tighten ever so slightly and she fully registered that he was staring at her. Hermione's brow furrowed a tad as she peered back into his serious countenance. He had not yet let her go and she had not yet attempted to move. Why? Also, was he?... she felt his fingertips moving against her sides and inhaled.

The front door flew inward with a BANG the very next second, propelled by a volley of wind that surprised and assaulted all four. Ron used his wand to close the door as Harry hastily let go of Hermione, taking a step back and turning away.

"It hadn't been  _that_ windy tonight!" Ginny remarked.

Harry gulped, from what had just happened and his rescue of Hermione. The wind and the door had been  _his_ doing. Another outburst.

Mother of Merlin.

"Well I think that's enough action for one morning," Ron attested, clapping his hands, "Everyone needs sleep! Come on- we'll help you girls up to bed."

"Now  _you're_  trying to be a gentleman?" pondered Ginny.

"That's Harry's job." Hermione stated, giggling again.

"Exactly! And if anyone is helping me to bed I want it to be him."

Harry's eyes widened, Ginny laughed, and Ron's ears went red as an offended look passed over his face. That had been the first explicitly flirtatious thing the red headed witch had said about Harry in months and it had definitely just made things awkward.

"No need. I've got you,  _sis_ ," Ron said in a gruff voice, "Harry can help Hermione."

The dark haired wizard readily looked away from Ron and glanced at Hermione. She seemed entertained once more.

"See you lot in the afternoon, then!" Ginny bid, heading for the stairs and throwing up a hand in farewell. Ron gazed at the brunette witch for a long second as though he wanted to say something or change his mind, but he sighed before saying goodnight and following his sister.

Harry turned to Hermione while the other two marched up the stairs only to see that she was making her way past him.

"Where are you going?" he inquired, sounding a bit bewildered.

"Maybe I do need water," she admitted.

Not wanting to leave her alone, Harry accompanied her to the kitchen where they stayed for 10 minutes until she emptied her glass.

"You're not really going to help me to bed, are you?" Hermione asked with a smirk as they stood at the bottom of the staircase once more.

"Well, n-no, but-" he commenced.

"Because I can make it there on my own just fine."

"I've heard that before, like when you nearly ate the floor earlier trying to prove to Ron how  _fine_ you were."

The retort came out before Harry could stop it but it only made Hermione's smirk grow. She stared at him and he stared back, wanting to, now, grin himself. She did not say anything before she started climbing the steps and he trailed behind her after she had gotten to the third one. This, however, is when the third problem of the night manifested.

The first problem had been Harry's reaction upon seeing Hermione in his apartment right before she had gone out. The second had been that interlude when he prevented her from falling (which caused another magical episode), and  _now_  his eyes were stuck on specific parts of her body. Now he was a pervert!

 _What is wrong with you? What the hell is_ wrong  _with you!,_  he questioned, faithfully watching the curve of her waist and the way it accentuated the hump of her rear.  _This is Hermione! Stop it! You're being a_ perv _, you git! First her front and now her back?! STOP ogling your best friend!_ Harry clenched his teeth and tried to do as he had instructed himself but it was extremely difficult. It was just so entrancing, watching her. She was actually  _swaying_! Was she doing this on purpose? Had she always moved this way up stairs? Why had he never paid more attention?!

Harry made sure his eyes were above Hermione's neck again once they stepped onto the landing. He walked her to her room and she opened her mouth to speak but he muttered out a "goodnight" and dashed past her before she could say anything. Harry breathed deeply the entire trek to his room (Sirius' former one) and hurled himself on the bed, face down, once behind its door. He let out a frustrated groan. The entire night had been downright strange in relation to Hermione. The shock at his apartment, the incident in the foyer, the gawking on the stairs… he had been weirdly caught up in her all night! Hermione's chest, waist, and butt flashed through his mind in succession and he balled his fists. He felt angry at himself, at first, but he slowly uncurled his hands as a new, more accepting thought presented itself.

Harry had called himself a pervert for ogling Hermione but maybe that was not it. Maybe he was just an 18 year old male! Maybe he was just an 18 year old who had not had physical intimacy in some time, an 18 year old who was recognizing how physically attractive his best friend was, and these two facts were merely playing off each other. He didn't have to be a pervert because he subconsciously saw and reacted to Hermione's appeal.

The notion made him feel less frantic- less guilty- and he relaxed into his pillow.  _Maybe I just need a good snog. I wonder if Hermione would be willing to help me with_ that  _problem_ , Harry pondered. He snorted before telling himself what he truly needed was just sleep.

* * *

Harry met with Meknikov the weekend after Easter, his second time doing so since the Healer revealed his thoughts about the cause for Harry's magical instability. He warred with himself the majority of the session over whether or not he should tell Meknikov about his off putting reactions to Hermione the previous weekend. One side declared that Meknikov would use the information as proof that Harry  _did_  feel something for the brunette witch (which was still not the case), while the other side insisted it had been a difference in his feelings he had observed so he needed to tell the Healer, because the Healer was there to help him get a hold of this.

Consequently, Harry ended up sharing it the last 15 minutes of their meeting. Meknikov appeared a tad surprised but it was subtle, like almost all of his reactions to what Harry said, and he listened without many interruptions or follow up questions.

"So you were struck by Ms. Granger's appearance, more than once," the older wizard summarized.

"I s'pose so. Yeah." Harry muttered.

"And it sounds like you approved of what you saw."

There was awkward silence in which Harry did not look at Meknikov.

"Maybe I'm just finally noticing, for good, that Hermione is pretty. I've noticed it before. Maybe now it's just sticking… or something," he offered.

"Perhaps," the Healer said, showing a muted smile, "Now, let me tell you what is going through my head."

"You'll do it anyway so go on."

Meknikov chuckled and then proceeded.

"You enjoy being in Ms. Granger's company and are extremely comfortable with her. You care about her feelings and feel a need to see that she is taken care of emotionally. You have a fierce sense of protectiveness for her. And, now, her physical appeal has become increasingly apparent to you."

"Those are all normal things to feel for a close friend," Harry asserted, starting to look irritated, "You can recognize when your friends are good looking without it meaning you want them!"

"Oh, most definitely!," Meknikov agreed, "These are common traits for meaningful friendships, yes,  _as well_  as romantic relationships."

The younger wizard's irritability increased.  _You brought this on yourself, you nit. You_ knew  _he would use this to his advantage!_ , he raged at himself.

"I have a question for you, Harry: how would you feel about Ms. Granger being courted?" the Healer pondered. Harry outright stared at Meknikov with a deadpan expression.

"Is that relevant to what we're talking about?" Harry inquired. This man was always throwing unwanted curve balls!

"Humor me. How would you feel if another young man dated her?"

An image of Ron popped in his head but it brought a feeling of dread for an inexplicable reason so Harry forced it away. Ron was not dating Hermione- no one was- so why did he have to imagine this scenario? It was odd and he could freely admit it did not bring a smile to his face.

"He'd have to be worthy." Harry answered, voice sounding a bit gruff.

"There's your protectiveness," Meknikov observed, smiling, "And it is totally understandable that you would want someone worthy for your best friend. So, let's say there  _is_ a wizard worthy of her; he is respectful, honest and kind, and he genuinely cares about her. How would you feel?"

Harry's mouth began to pucker. He felt like curling his fists. Why did Meknikov need to know this,  _want_  to know this? Why did that matter? Why was the Healer concerned about Hermione's love life! Harry was good and aggravated now and ready for the session to end.

"I can't say," he stated in a tight tone.

"Do you think you would accept it and be sincerely happy for her, as people are wont to do when their friends find good, compatible romantic partners?"

"I suppose I'll find out how I feel when it happens, won't I?" Harry replied through clenched teeth, only barely managing to not ball his fists.

Meknikov offered another benign smile that only served to irk the other wizard and then uttered:

"Indeed."

Blasted Meknikov! There were certain times that Harry savagely questioned why he was seeing the Healer and his most recent session with the man was one of those times. Posing preposterous scenarios about Hermione dating and asking preposterous questions about how Harry might feel about it. Had the point been to upset Harry? Because, if so, mission accomplished.

Hermione  _dating_.

How would that feel for Harry… pssh. She  _wasn't_ dating, which was the crux of it! Accordingly, there had been absolutely no need to imagine such a situation. She was not dating, plain and simple. And if she were, she would tell them- him and Ron.

Well… perhaps not Ron. The red head had a notorious history of reacting very poorly to Hermione's romantic life and belittling the men interested in her, so Harry could see why their female best friend would not rush to inform Ron about a new development in that area of her life. But he, Harry, was a different story! He had been supportive of the brunette's couple exploits during Hogwarts.

Well… mostly. Or maybe he had been accepting rather than supportive. He had not despised or resented Krum and remained friendly enough overall; the main reason he had not been more personable was because the Bulgarian Seeker had been his competition for the tournament. As for Cormac McLaggen, Harry had been very put off by the git and wanted to throttle him but that was because the other Gryffindor had been so unlikeable for a variety of reasons, including his arrogance. There had also been a murmuring in sixth year of Seamus possibly being interested in Hermione that had found its way to Harry's ear despite valiant attempts to prevent it from happening. And, admittedly, the dark haired wizard had approached his roommate about it one night, feeling rather aggravated by the notion (and the fact that he had just come from detention), but Seamus resolutely denied it for everything he was worth, so Harry let the matter die then and there.

Seamus wanting something with Hermione had been too odd to fathom. Cormac wanting something with her had been revolting because he was definitely  _not_ worthy of the witch. So few men were! This was one thing Harry had tried to convey to Meknikov through his preposterous musings about Hermione seeing someone. Something she was surely not doing. He would know if she was.

Hermione was not dating. She was not…

Right?

Blasted Meknikov! Now Harry had to prove that Hermione was not dating anyone because there was doubt that she would tell him if she were. She had girlfriends, after all, and what if she thought she could concern them about this aspect of her life but not him? He wanted to know, too. Needed to know! They were best friends and he had to be able to watch out for her. When Harry did confront Hermione about this matter, they were both at the Ministry during work hours.

He went to her department with a determined face, garnering admiring gazes along the way without effort from numerous people who would not get over the fact that Harry Potter worked in the same building as them any time soon. When he arrived, he found her talking and smiling with some wizard who presumably worked on her level. He looked a couple years older than them and appeared comfortable- happy- to be conversing with her about a topic that Harry sorely hoped was work related. Narrowing his eyes, he marched over to the pair and interrupted them without guilt.

"Hermione," he started in a business like tone.

"Harry," she answered, sounding fond and turning toward him.

"Wow. Harry Potter! I haven't seen you on level five before," her coworker stated, grinning. Harry side eyed him for a second before giving a terse nod, which caused the other wizard's merry countenance to falter some.

"Can we talk for a moment? It's important. It won't take long." Harry attested, gazing at Hermione.

"Sure…," she replied, "Would you excuse us, Daniel? I'll be back."

"Please," this Daniel person responded, gesturing with a hand.

"Thanks." Harry mumbled. He grabbed the witch's hand and briskly walked them away without looking at Daniel again, failing to see the tiny frown that shown on Daniel's face at their departure.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione commenced once they had sufficient privacy, peering at him closely.

"Why do you ask?" he questioned.

"You seem… preoccupied." He had also been rather short with Daniel but she was not going to comment on that in case he became defensive.

"Well, yeah... I  _do_  have something on my mind. And it's important. Like I said."

"What's going on?" she pondered.

Harry did not reply instantly and, instead, gazed back into her curious eyes for a long period of time.

"You would tell me if you were dating someone, right?" the wizard blurted out. He saw Hermione draw her head back in surprise and the corresponding, gaping expression she made.

"What?" she asked.

"If you were dating someone. You would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Is _that_  the important issue you wanted to talk about?"

"Maybe." Harry said, finally dropping his eyes.

"I thought it was something work related, at least!," began Hermione, giving a small shake of her head, "Harry, I'm partially relieved it's not something more serious, but this couldn't have waited for another time? A time that wasn't at the Ministry?"

 _You didn't seem all too busy when I arrived and you were chatting it up with Daniel_ , he thought, frowning.

"What's wrong with talking about it now?" he asked.

"Well, nothing, I suppose. But I thought it was important!"

"It  _is_  important, Hermione. To me."

She stared at him and blinked, perplexed all over again.

"Are you?" Harry continued.

"Am I?" Hermione repeated.

"Are you dating someone?" He really tried not to sound impatient but she wasn't answering the question.

"Oh!"

She started to blush and looked away from him at last. His insides instantaneously seized up at this as a wave of jumbled thoughts overtook his mind, the forefront of which was that she  _was_ dating a man and how the hell had he missed that?! However, before Harry could open his mouth to say anything, the brunette was speaking again.

"No, I am not dating anyone right now," she revealed.

He felt like all of the tension (that he had not known he had been holding) was let out of him in a single breath and his body visibly relaxed. He wanted to give a small smile. He knew it. Take  _that,_ Meknikov!

"No coworkers?" the wizard inquired, thinking of Daniel.

"No. No coworkers, Harry, or anyone else at the moment." Hermione reassured, peering at him once more.

"Okay," Harry had wanted to say "good", instinctively, "... Has anyone tried?"

She gave her friend a peculiar look and her eyes narrowed a tad as some of the tension rushed back into him at her expression. Where had that follow up question come from?  _Why_ had it? His mental filter really was worthless at times.

"I didn't know my dating life was this important to you," the witch remarked, continuing to appraise him shrewdly.

"Why wouldn't it be?  _You're_ important to me," he answered, feeling fairly defensive now and sounding challenging, "And I… I need to be sure any old tosser isn't interested in you."

"Oh, Harry," the witch scolded before a moment of silence passed. There was no bite or anger in her tone whatsoever; she had, in fact, struggled to not let another stunned look cross her face at his assertion.

"So, just keep me updated about that, when- if- it changes. Yes?"

"Yes. As long as you don't become a raging monster like Ron and try to interfere. I'll not have  _both_  my best friends become cavemen who do their best to make sure I never date."

"Not tossers, at least." Harry added, impulsively stepping right to her and placing a kiss on the top of her head. It was another impetuous move that even made him pause before he pulled away, but Hermione only smiled sweetly and accepted it.

"May I ask why this was such a pressing issue? How it came up?" she asked before he left to return to level two and she left to return to Daniel. He appeared caught off guard and gave a nervous smile while he scratched the back of his head.

"Oh. Erm, well… it was just related to something Meknikov mentioned the last time I saw him."

"Healer Meknikov? How often do I come up in your conversation, Harry? And what exactly are you saying about me?"

A large grin gradually spread across his face as he thought, _if only you knew_! Then, with a wink, the wizard turned on his heel and walked away from her, ignoring her insistent call of his name.

Hermione's assurance that she was not dating, and that she would tell him if she were, erased most of Harry's vexation toward Meknikov, although the Healer was determined to make Harry doubt himself, it seemed. Feeling disturbed by the idea of Hermione dating, admiring her physical traits, being in tune with her emotionally- that could all be explained in a platonic sense.

And he  _had_ explained it all, rather well if he did say so himself. However, when May arrived and brought with it the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, something occurred that Harry found hard to explain away.

May second was a solemn day. It was a Sunday so classes were not in session, but if they had been, the students of the castle would have been abstained from attending. There was a memorial held on the grounds and hundreds of people attended; Shacklebolt and McGonagall were the primary speakers but others spoke as well, such as Hagrid. At the Wizengamot's urging, the Minister approached Harry to ask if he would say something during the ceremony, although he personally knew Harry would deny the request. Accordingly, Shacklebolt was not shocked or offended when the younger wizard refused, and he explained that he did not expect anything from Harry but to remember and mourn along with everyone else.

Harry wanted to keep the event's focus on all of the lives lost and far away from him that day but it was impossible. He was thanked by numerous people and stared at by many more, and his jaw became tense whenever he was lauded by one of the ceremony's speakers. He sat with the Weasleys, Hermione and Andromeda, with the Longbottoms and Lovegoods nearby. The ceremony itself lasted two hours and ended with the unveiling of a respectable monument in the Entrance Hall that Harry himself embraced. However, he did not have the stomach to stay and convene beyond 45 minutes once the memorial was over, primarily because he was being crowded with each passing minute, so his best friends and Neville readily left with him after giving Luna and Ginny thorough goodbyes.

The rest of the day was spent visiting graves. It was harrowing but it felt right- needed. They reconvened with the Weasleys for their last grave visit, Fred's, and it was heartbreaking. The sun set as the large group gathered around the site and offered words and tears for the fallen wizard, with George and Molly being the worst off. It took a substantial amount of time before they were ready to return to the Burrow for dinner and Ron knew that he needed to stay with his family through the night due to the emotional toll the day had taken. Harry completely understood and, when the meal was finished and he prepared to leave the Burrow for their apartment, he informed the red head he would see him at work the succeeding day.

Hermione joined Harry after giving Ron a consuming hug and she was Side Alonged to the boys' home. Things seemed somewhat stiff between them when they arrived, yet it was hard determining if it was due to the sober mood of the day or something else that was not being verbalized.

"You didn't have to come with me back to the flat, Hermione. You could've gone home." Harry carefully informed her.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left," she answered, sounding mulish. He gave a half hearted smile at her Hermione-ness.

"I'm as fine as I can be after a day like today."

A sad look crossed the witch's face as she nodded and looked at the floor and it erased Harry's tepid smile.

"Rest will likely do us both some good," he offered, peering at her, "You should go home and sleep, Hermione. I know I will."

"Yes. You're right," she said after a moment. However, she was not meeting his gaze and the sad looked remained. Harry's brow furrowed at this and he took some time to study her through the dense silence but Hermione did not look up or say anything more.

"Hey," he uttered at last. This brought her head up as her eyes fixated on his. The haunted expression was still there as they stared at one another for an instant.

"Do you want to stay the night?" the wizard pondered.

A thin sheet of water appeared in Hermione's eyes at the question but she also gave a single laugh and nodded.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It may seem silly, but I j-just…" she commenced. He shook his head, silently stopping her from continuing. Harry understood and did not think it silly. It had been an arduous day from an emotional standpoint and she presumably did not want to be alone with the weight of her feelings.

"Don't apologize. I get it," he directed. Yes, he did, a lovely feature of their relationship, "Do you want my room or Ron's?"

"Harry, I'm not going to take your room- not when you're here to be in it yourself."

"Do you want my room or Ron's?"

Harry had repeated himself as though she had not spoken which caused Hermione to shake her head in exasperation and affection. It was about her comfort to him and if she preferred his room to their best friend's then he would bunk in Ron's without protest.

She chose the empty room out of her own care for him but, incidentally, she did not stay there. Harry was awake a few minutes past 5AM, staring resolutely to the right of him at the sleeping brunette in his bed whom was facing him and clutching a pillow with both hands. Hermione had not been in his bed when he had initially gone to sleep, or even at 1:42AM when he had woken up for about half a minute before falling right back into slumber, but here she was upon his second waking, situated as if she had been present the entire time.

Conversely, it was not hard to explain away her presence in Harry's bed. The previous day had been taxing and Hermione needed solace, a fact that had led her to his bed. She had not been forward enough to explicitly ask for it but she felt comfortable enough with him to seek it on her own, and he was comfortable enough with her to provide it. What was more, this was not an entirely new scenario; when they had lived together at Grimmauld before restoring her parents' memories, Hermione found her way to Harry's room during the night two or three times to fight off the darkness of her dreams. No one else knew about it and they hardly discussed it themselves, but it was another part of their relationship that highlighted their closeness.

So, no- Hermione being in bed with him was not hard to explain away. What  _was_  hard to explain away was that Harry could not stop staring at her. He should have gone back to sleep for a few more hours after discovering her next to him but that was of little importance to him now. It was much more compelling to blatantly observe her and it was something he had never truly done before. Hermione was in a white pajama top and her hair was in a single braid but, seeing as how it was just as disorderly as his, half of it had come undone. Harry tried very hard to contemplate why he could not look away from her but all his brain could offer him was snippets of his sessions with Meknikov. The wizard pursed his lips but did not stop studying his best friend.

Gosh, what would the Healer have to say about this if he knew? He would probably fix Harry with that knowing, annoying, kind smile of his and ask him what he made of the fact that he stared at a sleeping Hermione for minutes on end. Harry still probably would not have an answer and Meknikov would then give some explanation that tied back into the theory that Harry was secretly in love with her. Deciding this was a moment he would not share until he had adequate reasoning for it, he emitted a big exhale and prepared to sleep once more. (It had been 10 minutes of staring, after all). Harry focused on wayward, frazzled curls around her face until his eyelids became too heavy to keep open and he slipped into unconsciousness, remaining turned towards her until they both awoke three hours later.

* * *

Harry had silently railed about Meknikov and his theory since the Russian wizard first verbalized it, and he had stayed loyal to himself in that regard for quite a long time. However, during May, The Boy Who Lived's metaphorical fist shaking at the Healer had subsided significantly.

A subconscious part of Harry must have realized he no longer had much of a leg on which to stand to protest Meknikov so vehemently. There were those few, bizarre instances involving Hermione since Easter and there was also the fact that his magical outbursts persisted, the most damning evidence of all. That they had not disappeared despite seeking help in November is what made him finally mull over it all, without judgment, to evaluate Meknikov's words more objectively.

Then came an encounter with Hermione on the third Friday of the month that demolished any remaining, petulant feelings Harry had in regard to Meknikov. It was the first time that he outright considered the Healer might be right.

The pair was in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place cleaning up after their dinner, something they had to fight Kreacher to allow them to do. (Peace was obtained by promising the elf they would not do it again for the next three months). Ron was absent as he had gone to the Ministry at 7pm to begin his night shift, a shift Harry had worked the previous night. Hermione had been quiet and fidgety during the meal and it was apparent to the dark haired wizard that she was bothered by something. He waited to broach the topic until the cleaning was complete and stopped her before she could leave the room.

"I've been waiting for you to freely tell me what's wrong but it looks like that isn't going to happen," commenced Harry, "So let me ask: what's wrong, Hermione?"

The witch peered at him and looked conflicted, as though she was debating on whether to be honest or dismissive. She dropped her gaze so he waited expectantly; when she brought her eyes back up, they appeared more emotional than they had up to this point.

"Something happened today at work that upset me, is all. " Hermione replied.

"When?"

"At lunch."

"Lunch?" he questioned, furrowing his brow.

"Yes," she confirmed, "I was going to get my own when I overheard… overheard a conversation."

"About what? Between who?" She shook her head but responded.

"Two women. Level three, I think."

"What was it about?" Harry prompted. Hermione broke eye contact and took a long pause before answering:

"Me."

He sucked in air as he gazed at her and could feel his chest constrict a tad. She was upset so he highly doubted they had been singing her praises.

"What'd they say?"

The silence this time was used to avoid having to reply but Harry would have none of it. He had to know what was wrong because he did not want her to remain distressed.

"Hermione," he stated in a tone that was both firm and pleading. The brunette's shoulders tensed but she finally met his gaze once more, only to appear so vulnerable that it made him clench his teeth.

"I only heard a small bit of it but they said… t-they said they don't... they didn't see how _you_  can spend your time with a witch who has big hair a-and a big mouth. A big mouth on a plain face," she shared.

Harry's entire body became taut from the spike of anger he experienced as Hermione looked away. She did her best to hold it together and not become more emotional as she continued talking.

"I've tried to tell myself all day that their words don't matter, that worse has been said about me and  _done_ to me. I've really tried, but…" But she was human and historically sensitive about her physical appearance due to others' vocalized opinions.

"Do you know who they are? Their names?," he rapidly asked, the anger apparent in his voice, "If we went to level three, you'd be able to point them out, right?"

This brought her head whipping up and Hermione stared at him, somewhat aghast.

"Harry, no. I don't want retaliation!" she noted.

"Well I do."

"Harry, you just can't storm down there and knock heads about!"

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Harry-" she tried to start.

"How  _dare_  they, Hermione?! They don't know me and they sure as hell don't know you! They can't get away with saying things like that! It's disrespectful enough as it is, but you're  _you_! You saved their arses along with everyone else's, including mine, from Voldemort!"

Hermione was equally touched by Harry's passion and protective nature as much as she was concerned about keeping him from getting riled up further. She stepped to him and put a placating hand on his upper arm.

"You're right, Harry. It's not okay- no," the witch remarked.

"You're Hermione Granger. They don't know how utterly brilliant you are!  _That_ is why I want to spend my time with you!" he continued.

Hermione's heart throbbed at the words but the next ones that came from his mouth caused her heart to freeze right before its rhythm became downright turbulent.

"I  _like_  your hair. And your face isn't plain! It's lovely."

She stared at him with an open mouth before a blush overtook her cheeks but Harry's rant persisted as though he did not completely register her reaction.

"Those cows are just jealous that I would bypass them in a room without a second thought in order to get to you," he asserted, scowling.

The shock did not stay with Hermione for too much longer. Once it disappeared, she gave Harry a disarming beam before she threw herself at him and hugged him for dear life. She was well aware her best friend cared deeply for her, but to hear such brazen compliments said with such conviction… and he called her lovely! It was too much for the brunette to merely brush off.

Harry, meanwhile, appeared to snap out of the anger spiral once he felt Hermione in his arms. He peered down at her head while they embraced and felt a fierce sense of satisfaction while he chastized the witches more. There was no doubt he had meant all he said. She  _was_ brilliant, he  _would_  chose her over any other woman in a room, and she  _did_ have a lovely face. She clearly needed to hear it more if she still doubted her appearance this much; Hermione had grown into her looks quite well, in his opinion.

 _And her body's soft… goes well with her face,_ Harry thought as he held said body. C _onsider her personality on top of that and no witch can compare. I dare anyone to say otherwise to my face._

"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed once she pulled away from him. She looked so pleased as she gazed into his eyes that sharp pride shot throughout him. He had made Hermione feel better! Perfect.

Harry peered back as he let this electric feeling fill him and he offered her a kind smile.

"It's the truth," he claimed.

"You're more than a girl could ever ask for."

Hermione squeezed his hands and took a step back toward him, and the wizard inhaled as his eyes took her in again. Conversely, not four seconds later, a jet of water came gushing out of the sink's faucet and alarmed the pair. The witch shrieked from the startling disruption as they separated. They gawked at the torrent of water for a moment before she hurried over to the sink and used her wand to make it stop; Harry's jaw tightened as he watched her.

Water had been dripping slowly from the faucet since they finished washing the dishes and he knew that it had become that violent stream because of him, his magic. And it happened right in the middle of a moment he had been having with Hermione… a moment in which he had felt  _good_.

"Harry!," she said, turning back toward him when the water was taken care of, "That was you, wasn't it?!" Her tone was stern and her frown was disapproving. Harry wanted to flinch.

"Erm…" he uttered.

"Just  _what_ has Healer Meknikov been doing with you?! What is he saying? Because your magical outbursts have  _not_ stopped despite the fact that it's been months! Is he even helping?! Do I need to join you for a session? Because I think I should! I should hear for myself precisely what he is doing because you're not forthcoming with information! And I have quite a few questions to ask that man, starting with!..."

Harry merely stared at her as he listened to Hermione pontificate. He was not paying much attention to what she was saying, however, because his own mind was beginning to swarm with thoughts. Big thoughts. Loud thoughts. Damning thoughts.

Thoughts that made his heart thud faster in his chest and his breath catch in his throat.

Thoughts about Hermione and how she had looked at him and how he had looked at her, and thoughts about how he had  _felt_ , right before the water sprayed out of control.

Thoughts that Meknikov's theory about his wild magic just might be accurate.


	3. Results

Harry thought that Hermione's declaration that she join him the next time he met Meknikov had merely been a part of her rambling but it seemed as though the witch meant it. When he discovered she was serious about the intent, he panicked on the inside and launched into a verbal campaign to prevent that from happening. He had a hell of a time convincing her that her presence at the next appointment was unnecessary and he was doing a poor job of it. Hermione did not budge from the idea, no matter what Harry said or how desperate he sounded when he said it.

"Are you hiding something?" she would ask.

"N-No!" he would lie.

"Then why does it matter that I go?"

"Because it's not a big deal!"

"Your magic's unpredictability  _is_ a big deal, Harry! And the fact that it continues is why I'm going," she would counter.

Harry would have nothing to say after that and merely gawk at her, thinking of all the potential, disastrous outcomes that would come from her accompanying him to the Healer. However, this battle with Hermione  _did_  distract him from the sweeping idea that Meknikov may be right (which, admittedly, frightened him). He could not dwell on that if he was busy convincing the brunette that she did not need to tag along for his next session, which was a distraction he was glad to have.

Ultimately Harry lost the battle, although he fought until the very last minute, which happened to be the night before his appointment. Hermione assured him she would be at his apartment 30 minutes before his session time and she kept her word, showing up at 1:30PM and encountering a tense looking best friend. (Ron was helping Bill with some task or another and not home when she arrived). Harry rebuked himself for not sending an owl to Meknikov before this with a warning that Hermione might come with him, something he had considered before foolishly telling himself he would succeed in persuading her that her assistance was not needed.

The witch was brisk and business-like and made no mention of Harry's obvious reticence. This attitude carried over to Meknikov's office, and when the Healer opened the door to welcome the younger wizard for his 2 o'clock session, he was shocked to see two people on the other side. Hermione also made no mention of Meknikov's stunned expression and simply reintroduced herself.

"Hello Healer Meknikov. Hermione Granger. You remember me, yes?" she commenced.

"O-Of course. Ms. Granger… Ms. Granger!" the Russian wizard stammered. It was the first time Harry witnessed the other man be frazzled but he could not blame him.

"I thought it would be best if I joined Harry today. I have questions about his progress. Do you mind?" She looked pointedly into his office, conveying her desire and expectation for entrance.

"Uh... please!"

Meknikov moved aside and Hermione gave a resolute nod before marching inside. The Healer then gazed incredulously at Harry, who grimaced.

"She  _insisted_. I've tried for two weeks to convince her not to come!," he hissed, "I thought I could. I didn't know she meant it!"

"I…" the Healer uttered.

" _Please_  help me."

Harry threw him an anxious look before following Hermione inside. Meknikov took a moment to collect himself and smother his stark surprise before moving back into his office; he saw that the brunette was sitting primly on the left side of the couch, with crossed arms, while Harry was slumped into the cushions on the right side.

"Ms. Granger. I must say that I am rather surprised to see you here alongside Mr. Potter," he stated as he settled into his normal armchair.

"I'm sure. It's never happened before," she answered.

"Indeed."

"Harry was against it."

"Is that so?" Meknikov prompted, looking at the dark haired wizard. He was met with a disgruntled look from the younger man.

"I just didn't want you to waste your time." Harry grumbled, not giving her eye contact.

"You mentioned Mr. Potter's progress-" the Healer continued.

"Or lack thereof." Hermione interjected. Meknikov drew back his head and felt the twitch of a smile.

"This is why you joined him today, to inquire about the status- the prognosis- of his magic."

"Yes. Which is  _not_  a waste of time, Harry. Why are you so stubborn?"

Harry would still not look at her and instead folded his own arms. Meknikov felt that twitch again but said:

"Please- ask your first question, Ms. Granger."

"Gladly. Harry has been seeing you since November, Healer Meknikov- why are his outbursts not fading?" she questioned, fixing him with a determined look. The Russian wizard appraised his client for a moment before taking more time to gaze at Hermione. He considered how he was going to venture into this topic without compromising anything.

"I have a theory about the nature of your dear friend's magical instability, Ms. Granger," he began in a supple tone, "A specific hypothesis for its origin. I've shared this theory with Mr. Potter and we have discussed it at great length."

Harry's entire body stiffened and it did not pass Meknikov's notice.

"It would make sense for you to have a hypothesis, Healer Meknikov. That's why Harry started seeing you: so we could figure out what the cause was," the witch answered with evident snark. Her unwavering sass is what compelled Harry to finally peer at her. He was surprised by her treatment of Meknikov yet it only made the Healer give a low chuckle.

"Well, I believe the key to curing, so to speak, Harry's fluctuations lies in his belief in, and acceptance of, this theory," he offered. It was quiet as Hermione peered between the two men.

"What  _is_ the theory?" she inquired.

At her query, the air in the room seemed to shrink in on itself before pulsating dangerously. There was a strange noise and it took a few seconds for Meknikov and Hermione to realize that about half of the possessions in the office were rattling slightly. Two pairs of eyes shot to Harry. The brunette leaned towards him and quickly reached out, clasping his hand in hers.

"Harry?" she prompted. The burgeoning magic thrummed tenaciously for another instant before it subsided and then waned. The Healer watched the exchange intently.

"T-The theory?" posited Hermione, once the room's atmosphere was back to normal. Her hand remained in her best friend's while she looked at Meknikov.

"I think that is Harry's right to reveal," he relayed in a subdued tone. Her gaze went back to Harry and the young man frowned.

"It has to do with the Horcrux." Harry attested after a long pause. They all heard her subsequent inhale of breath.

"Is it bad?" she wondered, fingers squeezing his.

"Actually, Ms. Granger, I think Mr. Potter's uncontrolled displays of magic are the result of something good, something exceptional," Meknikov informed, "The Horcrux was concealing it."

"So, his outbursts are the… result of this something? Now that the Horcrux is gone."

"Yes."

"And since his magic is still wild, that means, according to you, he hasn't accepted your theory?" Hermione pondered.

"That is my belief, yes." Meknikov confirmed, smiling. She appeared reflective before turning back to Harry.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?"

The dark haired wizard's face was uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, and he cleared his throat before declaring:

"I can't."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"It's… I just can't."

An expression that was a mixture of surprise and hurt overtook her countenance but Harry missed it as he had taken to avoiding eye contact once more.

"Do… do you not… trust me?" she posed. She began to remove her hand from his and Harry had an immediate reaction, one of alarm, to her words and movement. He peered swiftly at her with a drawn brow.

"Of course I trust you, Hermione! I trust you more than  _anyone_!That's not it," he claimed, reaching to take her hand back, "I'm just not… ready to share it. Right now. The theory. I'm still working out what I think about it. It's… complicated."

Hermione slowly nodded as she looked away but let her hand rest in Harry's again. Meknikov watched their entire interaction rapaciously and purposely said nothing in order to allow the organic flow of their relationship play out before him; this lull now, however, seemed to invite him back into the fray. His professional self felt invigorated by what had just happened yet he did not let it show.

"I've had Harry gather evidence, so to speak, to support or disprove the theory since I proposed it in February." Meknikov remarked.

" _February_?," the witch uttered, gaping at both men, "You've been grappling with this since February? And the evidence hasn't pushed you one way or another?" Harry ran his free hand through his hair and choked out a laugh.

"Oh it's pushed me, all right!," he mentioned, "It was much less confusing when I didn't believe it at all."

Silence thundered across the office for a stint as the small group entertained the thoughts pushing against their minds, all the while Hermione and Harry remained attached by the hand. This was a fact of which the two may not have been aware and it warmed Meknikov, yielding his trademark smile.

"My work now is helping Mr. Potter put things into perspective, in light of my hypothesis. Help sort out his thoughts and feelings," the Healer explained, "Do you have other questions you want answered, Ms. Granger?" The brunette shook her head and, for the first time since entering the room, seemed somewhat docile.

"No. I think I'm satisfied for now, thank you." Hermione said.

"Wonderful. Now  _I_ ask if it would it be an imposition for you to wait half an hour or so while I meet with Mr. Potter by himself?"

"Oh, not at all! I can definitely wait," She started and got to her feet, finally releasing their hands, "I know you expected to meet with  _only_ Harry, as you always do. I, er, kind of intruded on that."

"But you did so out of profound care for him," replied Meknikov, smiling, "How fortunate we would all be to have someone like you in our lives."

She blushed some and then told Harry she would see him shortly before leaving the office in a hurry. He watched her go then took his time in looking at Meknikov, appearing trepid when he finally did so. They peered at each other for a moment in very loaded silence.

"So, that's Hermione!" Harry noted, giving a nervous laugh.

"It was a true pleasure," the older wizard mentioned, smiling.

To Harry's surprise, the rest of the session did not revolve around Hermione's unannounced presence. Instead, Meknikov probed him about his evolving feelings about the theory. Harry was grateful the Russian wizard did not seem smug or boast about his, Harry's, altered, confused state regarding Hermione but, then again, anything akin to superiority was far from the Healer's nature. Meknikov only directly addressed Hermione's intrusion once the session ended and Harry got up to leave.

"I have but one more thing to say before we depart, Harry," he attested, standing as well. He received a nod as confirmation to press on, "That Ms. Granger came with you today to demand answers from me is noteworthy in itself, but what I witnessed between you two in this office during the brief amount of time she was present?"

The dark haired wizard remained quiet as he dropped his gaze and his heart rate accelerated.

"That young woman loves you with an intensity that burns. It is obvious," Meknikov said following another pause, "Make of it what you will."

When Harry brought his head up again, he looked pensive and flashed half a smile.

"I'm trying," he claimed.

The Healer responded with his own, full smile and walked Harry to the door. He watched as the younger man approached his best friend and took her hand without hesitation, and Meknikov returned the tiny wave the witch sent his way before the pair disappeared from his sight. He chuckled to himself and let his smile widen as he retreated back into his office.

That session was a turning point.

The explanation Hermione received about the unpredictability of Harry's magic seemed to appease her for the time being and she went back to being fully supportive and understanding, believing that he would share the mysterious theory with her in due time. Harry, meanwhile, gave his all into dutifully considering his relationship with and feelings for Hermione. He thought about her when he was working at the Ministry, he thought about her when he was spending time with any given Weasley, he thought about her in bed, before he went to sleep at night, hell- he thought about her when he was with her! Not only that, Harry pondered what her feelings for him were, what they could be. Mekniknov said Hermione's love for him was obvious and bright enough to burn… was there more to that love than unyielding friendship? Did he want there to be more? The thought nearly always left him somewhat breathless and light headed.

It was constant. This internal inspection was constant and it gave Harry focus, oddly. His mind had years' worth of interactions and conversations with the brunette to rifle through so he was more than occupied. His preoccupation with contemplating was so engrossing, however, that it kept him from noticing an extremely important development, one that Hermione pointed out to him.

When she brought it to his attention for the first time one particular evening, buzzing with anticipation, the pair was at his apartment on the verge of meeting up with a handful of former Dumbledore's Army members. They had to wait for Ron to return from a quick errand that he had forgotten about; the red head claimed it was critical he tend to it and insisted it would not take long. Incidentally, the witch was talking about Harry's next appointment with Meknikov when her demeanor changed and mild mirth bubbled up.

"Oh, you'll have to tell him, Harry! He'll be so pleased!" she insisted, smiling.

"Tell him? Tell him what?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"About your magic!"

"Er, what about it?"

"What do you mean? He'll want to hear the news!"

The dark haired wizard stared blankly at her, lost as to what Hermione was babbling about. She peered at him for a second and laughed once before questioning:

"Harry, haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?" he asked, feeling annoyed with how dense and repetitive he sounded.

"Your magic, your outbursts! They've decreased! You haven't had  _any_  since you last saw Healer Meknikov!"

Hermione beamed at him and grabbed one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing it. Harry felt blindsided as he processed her words. He thought about the number of incidents he had had since his last meeting with the Healer and came up with zero.

His magic was settling?

"I can't believe you haven't caught it! It's so encouraging!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry's eyes widened as he inhaled.

"I… I-I didn't notice!" he said.

"It's wonderful!"

His magic was settling! The witch's laugh tinkered around them, at the good news and his shock.

"You must be coming to accept the theory!" she remarked. Harry's breath caught.

The theory.

The theory that he had profound feelings for her that were as strong as tree roots and entwined in romantic love. Romantic love, for his best friend, the one who was literally bobbing with happiness for him. For him.

Harry was struck by how thrilled she was for his improvement. This was so characteristic of Hermione. She was unfailingly invested in him, his well being. His triumphs were hers and his struggles were also hers- hers to overcome with him. She stuck by him relentlessly. She loved him relentlessly. She had proven numerous times that she would do anything for him. And Harry knew as he gazed at Hermione's bright countenance that he felt exactly the same way about her. He was committed to her. He would never leave her of his own free will, he would never stop caring for her; in fact, he was positive it would only grow as they did. He would do everything in his power to get this witch what she wanted or help her get what she wanted. There was essentially nothing he would deny her.

A very sudden emotion then engulfed Harry. It felt equally unknown and familiar and it made him swell. It filled him completely.

"The theory," he muttered, eyes darting every which way over her lovely face.  _Because she had a lovely face_!

Hermione smiled even more as he unconsciously pulled her closer. Harry then realized knew this feeling- it had been present when they were in the kitchen of Grimmauld and the faucet had gone crazy. The difference was that, then, it had not been as captivating. Or as clear.

In the following moment, every single source of light in the apartment flared. If it wasn't on, it turned on spontaneously, and if it already had been, its shine increased triplefold. The illumination was spectacular. Every light was burning as bright as it could until it became blinding and it happened in a matter of seconds. Hermione gasped out loud. Then, just as suddenly, the apartment was plunged into darkness.

The witch screamed as the sound of shattering resounded around them. She and Harry were still connected by their hands and this gave her some comfort because that had been downright alarming. What in the world had just happened?!

"Harry!" she said, looking around wildly.

"I'm here," he replied in a voice that was entirely _too_  collected after something so unexpected.

"What-"

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes! I just…wh-what happened?" stammered Hermione.

How could he be so calm? Her nervous system was on high alert- anyone's would be after a surprise like that! What was more, there was something going on in the air around her. It was dark and they could not see, yes, but she could feel an energy that had not been present before. It was undeniable. It was all around her but it also seemed to be  _in_  her as well, like her molecules had been zapped with it. It was also intense. It was strange and a bit scary but also utterly enthralling.

It left Hermione breathless. Her pupils had dilated but this was unknown, especially as there was no source of light anymore. Harry remained silent while she took a little time to gather her bearings and level out her physiological reaction. When she did, a heavy inclination settled in her stomach.

"Harry," the brunette slowly commenced.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Y-Your magic…?"

There was a pause before the wizard gave a reply in the same unhurried tone.

"I suppose it's  _one_  outburst now. Don't know if Meknikov will be as impressed."

Hermione inhaled sharply. She stuttered out a shaky  _Lumos_ to break through the darkness and see their surroundings more properly but she was thrown through another loop by doing so. She was standing closer to Harry than when the lights had gone out. Much closer. In fact, they were only separated by a couple paltry inches, and his hand that was not sandwiched between hers in a death grip was holding her left side. No, not holding- gripping.

How had Hermione not  _felt_ any of that? Of moving so close to him, of his hand cradling her side? Additionally, the light from her wand showed that Harry was out and out  _staring_ at her, which did nothing to help usher steady breath back into her lungs. The gaze of his eyes was so acute, so concentrated… he did not seem the least bit concerned about the lights.

The energy in the air appeared to pick up and swirl even faster as they peered at one another. The brunette was still having trouble breathing and, now, looking away from her dark haired best friend. Harry's eyes were starting to darken and he erased another inch between them by moving forward, fingers curling around the part of her they held. Hermione gulped. She could not think straight but she had the pervasive sense of being totally surrounded by Harry.

"Bloody hell! What's going on?!" a voice then exclaimed, "Harry? Hermione?"

Hermione gasped and jerked back from him right as a thin stream of light careened around the room and then landed on the pair. It flickered between them for a moment.

"Ron!" the witch stated. He had been yet another surprise in the span of a handful of minutes.

"Why are you in the dark?" the red head asked with lit wand in hand. Hermione looked quickly at Harry and heard him mutter out a  _Lumos_ himself now that his hands were free.

"Hey, mate," he greeted, sounding unbothered.

"Why aren't the lights on?"

"Well, I  _may_  have blown them all out. Accidentally."

There was a beat of silence and then Ron was speaking again.

"Another outburst." He sounded amused and exasperated. Hermione put a hand on her brow and turned away from them, exhaling as she willed her heart to calm.

"Yeah," chuckled Harry, "Don't worry, though, Ron. Something tells me I found what I need to make them stop."

He said this and glanced at Hermione's back, feeling a pleasant ripple move throughout him. He believed in his heart that his statement was the truth. It had to be, for this outburst had stood out amongst all the rest. Throughout everything that had just transpired, even the lights extinguishing so savagely, Harry was amazed to realize that his magic had not felt at peace like this in nearly a year.

* * *

Hermione had been thrown off course. Violently. That incident with the lights at the boys' apartment left her reeling in the moment but its effect on her did not appear to be letting up following the event either! She had been turned into a flittering ball of nerves since then and it was terribly distracting. Terrible and distracting. Her brain was overthinking but not in a helpful way; it only served to give birth to more nerves.

Hermione loathed feeling this way and it was entirely Harry's fault. What was more, this was not the first time she had been in this head space- it just had not happened for a number of years. Since her fifth year at Hogwarts, to be precise.  _You are not 16 anymore_!, she would shout at herself when she had one of her nerve induced fits. No, she was nearing 20 now but she had never really dealt with this matter when she was a teenager, opting to bury it in her mind instead, so it was only natural that it would resurface.

Hermione tried so valiantly to brush off Harry's last outburst as inconsequential but it did not work. That magical flare up of his had torn out buried thoughts and feelings from the recesses of her mind and shaken her. That outburst had been unlike any other. Normally, Harry was chagrined when they happened and somewhat frustrated, but he had seemed so unaffected and  _sure_  with this one. And he had directed all of his attention on her instead of acknowledging the outburst, staring at her, touching her… the recollection of it was enough to make the brunette shudder.

In fact, there had been other charged moments like that with Harry since Easter, where he had honed in on her very being, but none had been so powerful or prolonged. And isn't that what adolescent Hermione had wanted, to have him transfixed by her? To notice her in that way? The way he noticed exceptionally pretty, Quidditch playing witches? The way she had begun to notice him in fourth year and the way it bowled her over in fifth year? Was it possibly happening now?

Of course, this old desire was also terrifying for Hermione and it was why she had stuffed it into the aforementioned recesses of her mind. She had spent countless hours analyzing why it invoked so much fear and there had been other factors that contributed to burying this desire; they had been in a war, for example, and what business did she have having feelings for the  _symbol_  of this war? So buried it remained...

Until this past year when it peeked out from time to time, maybe sensing the threat of war was over along with Harry being in a relationship with anyone. And surely until Harry's most recent magical fit had yanked it out and exposed it in all its glory. She could not hide it away again, especially since Harry's behavior toward her had progressively changed since the start of the year and she questioned what it meant. What was going through his head? What had he been thinking that evening with the lights? What would have happened if Ron had not come home at that instant? And then there had been that  _energy_ around them!

This all fed into Hermione's nerves. It made her paranoid and critical of her actions and Harry's. It made her curious and wistful of her actions and Harry's. For his part, he appeared to permanently adopt that cool, sure demeanor he had exuded during the event with the lights. He smiled at her sometimes like he knew something she did not, like he was on the brink of exposing something big but was holding back. Or waiting for a sign. It intrigued her as well as drove her crazy. The witch felt like she was playing a game with him for which she did not know the rules.

But despite all of the convoluted feelings she had about the situation and about Harry, they were not enough to invite distance. Hermione knew that she did not like to be away from him for long. She had never liked it but now it just felt… wrong. Anything beyond two days did not sit right with her. She felt more settled when she was in his presence, like it soothed her. That had been the case for a long time but it was different now, somehow. She could not fully explain it but she recognized it.

The one time this feeling was disrupted was when Hermione and Ron had gone to Grimmauld on a Saturday afternoon during the second half of June. She bounded into the main sitting room ahead of the red head, calling for Harry in a happy manner and deciding she would try the kitchen next if he was not here. He  _was_  in the room, incidentally, and so was Parvati Patil. They looked to be in a good mood and were standing, and Hermione came up short upon seeing her old roommate.

"Hermione!" the other witch greeted with a bright smile.

"P-Parvati," the brunette replied, blinking at her.

"Oy. Patil!" Ron uttered, coming up directly behind Hermione.

"Ronald." Parvati said, arching an eyebrow.

"All right?"

She smirked at him but nodded kindly.

"What… what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, attempting to sound friendly and not accusatory.

"I'm helping her with Defense content for NEWTs, remember?" answered Harry.

"Oh, yes! The, the practical portion."

He  _had_  mentioned that and Hermione must have forgotten. While she had taken her NEWTs in January, other former Hogwarts students were taking their exams the following week, the Patil twins among them.

"I've been here since morning." Parvati supplemented, peering at the dark haired wizard.

"And you've got it. You have since school." Harry noted with a small grin.

"Just wanted confirmation from the Defense prodigy himself."

Hermione felt something in her face tick as she watched their exchange.

"Don't forget hailed Chosen One," quipped Ron, walking into the room and cuffing his best friend's shoulder. Everyone except Hermione chuckled.

"Well I should get going, then! I'll see you tomorrow, Harry?" Parvati wondered.

"We'll finish up what little's left," he said, nodding once and accepting the hug she bestowed on him. Hermione's mouth became tight at the sight.

"Good to see you lot, as always."

Parvati then walked to the entryway and gave the other young woman a quick hug as well, and Hermione felt some contrition.

"Good luck on Tuesday. W-We can celebrate when they're done!" she remarked.

"Lovely!" Parvati mentioned.

"I'll bring the firewhiskey." Ron claimed. Their once Housemate waved him off with a smile and left the trio to itself.

The red head continued speaking, starting up a conversation with Harry, while Hermione watched Parvati's departure for a bit, appearing caught in thought. When she finally turned to face the wizards, she saw that Harry was watching her while, apparently, listening to their best friend. She started yet she did not look away, although her face began to crinkle in uncertainty; in response, a smirk unfurled on his lips and he fixed her with that knowing look he'd had since the lights incident. Hermione froze in place as her heart beat faster. Why did he look like that?! They continued to peer at each other but now she wanted to scowl at him, at his perceived smugness.

She was about to do just that when Harry's countenance changed and a goodnatured smile took over. He patted the space right next to him on the couch a few times and she was surprised at his change in expression  _and_  the invitation to sit beside him. Right beside him. The brunette was moving forward in the next second and told herself she would sit on the opposite side of the sofa as payback for his haughtiness, but that feeling of rightness washed over her the closer she got to him. Without a second guess as to rebelling, Hermione perched right next to him on the cushion and instantly felt better. She thought she saw a flash of another smirk as Harry put his arm around her shoulders but he turned to Ron and commenced talking before she could be sure. It did not seem to matter as much, conversely, as she got more comfortable against his side and any previous disturbing feelings she had dissipated as she joined her boys in conversation.

Harry, meanwhile, partially felt like he was on cloud nine. He felt so  _content_  and had since destroying the light source in his apartment. It had been the single outburst he had  _not_ been upset to experience and he knew, innately, that the days of his random magical flare ups were over. It had been enlightening, literally and figuratively. Consequently, Harry had a session with Meknikov a few days after his last outburst and the very first thing he blurted out was:

"You were right!"

The Healer had looked taken aback so the younger wizard continued.

"You were right, Healer Meknikov. This whole time. About me, a-about Hermione. About my feelings for her."

"Tell me what happened for you to come to this conclusion, and tell me why you're certain of it." Meknikov directed after a long pause. He was wearing the most sincere smile he had shown to date, and he was doing cartwheels on the inside.

The session lasted as long as the one where Harry revealed the Horcrux information, and by the end of it his feeling of satisfaction had doubled. He now comprehended the extent of his feelings for Hermione and it created a sense of wholeness. Meknikov also shared that if Hermione reciprocated Harry's feelings, then there was a chance that _her_  magic would respond in kind. He explained it as a gratifying push against Harry's own magical energy, as though attempting to connect. He noted that Harry would clearly recognize that it did not belong to him but felt welcomed regardless. A complementary energy that felt good.

And Harry  _had_ noticed this energy, the unseen push Meknikov described. He had. More than once, and it only happened when Hermione was around him, just like the outbursts. Her magic seemed to be answering his and  _this_  is what magnified his fulfillment. The implication that she had similar feelings for him! It was wondrous. Harry did not know when he would address or act on it but there were increasing moments that indicated he was getting closer to the right time. The biggest instance, perhaps, happened at the very beginning of July.

Padma and Parvati (and a handful of others) passed their NEWTs as everyone knew they would, and the young group of friends did celebrate their success but it had to wait until the seventh month of the year commenced. The group was large enough that the wizards and witches rented out The Leaky Cauldron on a Friday evening, making it was closed to everyday patrons. Ginny and Luna were home following their graduation from Hogwarts and were a part of the celebration as well, and it took the former two butterbeers, a shot, and two hours before she worked up the resolve to approach Harry about something.

Hermione was searching for her best friend because she had a firewhiskey infused butterbeer with his name on it when she came upon them talking, and she faltered for a second before veering off to the side and allowing them privacy. However, she was still close enough to hear their conversation if she purposefully blocked out all other stimuli- which she did (and felt somewhat guilty for it).

"I'm happy for you, Gin." Harry said, smiling at her and grasping her elbow.

"Yeah?" the red head pondered. She sounded and looked hopeful, which wiped out her prior nervousness.

"Yeah. Really," he assured, "You know, we… we never made a promise to each other. We were clear about that."

"Yes, we were. We said we'd see where we were in a year's time."

"And this is where we are,  _you_  are. And I'm glad you found something."

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny commented, grinning, " _I'm_  glad we're so good with each other."

"Always," the young Auror remarked. She pulled on his hand and he must have understood her meaning because he bent down and allowed her to place a kiss on his cheek.

Ginny then merged back into the crowd and Hermione waited about a minute before she casually sidled up to Harry.

"Hey!" he uttered when he saw her approach from his left. She directed a lovely smile at him and held up the drink that was designated for him; he gently took it with a disarming grin. He inclined his head before taking two large gulps and closing his eyes, although the vision of Hermione's legs in that delightful skirt remained imprinted on his lids.

"So, Ginny just told me she's been dating someone since Easter." Harry relayed after taking his share. The brunette was rushed with various emotions.

"Yes. A Ravenclaw wizard who was in her year." Hermione replied.

"She mentioned she told you."

"I've only known for a week. Ron doesn't know at all."

"He won't ever know if she can help it." Harry claimed, snorting. Hermione laughed but silence then followed it, and she peered at him furtively while it was quiet. She had heard him say that he was happy for Ginny and she now knew that it was in relation to her moving on, which had been the cause for the rush of emotion she experienced. She wanted to know more.

"How do you feel about it?" Hermione softly asked. He glanced at her seriously for a moment before he displayed another attractive smile and grabbed her right hand with his left, swinging them. A small spike of excitement ran throughout her and that feeling of being settled returned.

"I told her I'm happy for her, which I am," Harry reported, "We were together so long ago now, it seems."

The Muggleborn nodded to herself and struggled to fight off the urge to smile. There was another pause in their dialogue and this time he was the one to look at her in a sly manner.

"Speaking of Weasley love lives… there is an Auror in our class who is rather taken with Ron," he revealed. Hermione looked at him sharply, surprised.

"What?" she said.

"Oh yes. Her name's Monica and she's been after him since him March."

"That long?! By God! He hasn't said a word!"  _To me_  went unsaid.

"I told him yesterday to stop messing about and just give her a chance. They already get on." Harry mentioned, drinking more of his butterbeer.

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"And I think he might do it."

"Good. We all need to move forward following the war." She said this following a brief stint of silence and had looked away from him but had a faint smile on her lips. Harry looked her over and then inquired:

"And how do  _you_ feel about it? About hearing this."

Hermione looked at him strangely and attested:

"How  _should_ I feel? Besides happy that my best friend may have found a witch."

"Does that happiness extend to  _all_  your best friends?" he smirked, sensing (and liking) the truth of her words.

"I don't know. Maybe it depends on the witch that wants said best friend."

"Well you don't know Monica."

"No, but I know my best friends," she asserted, "Are you trying to subtly tell me  _you're_  dating someone?"

"Would you not approve of her if I was?" Harry wondered.

"I'd have to meet her."

"You just said you know your best friends so I would hope you trust my judgment, any meetings aside."

Hermione felt taken aback. What turn had their conversation taken and  _what_ was Harry implying?

" _Are_  you, then?" she asked, gazing at him.

"Are you?" he responded in a nonchalant tone.

"Harry, answer the question."

"Right after you."

"I asked you first!" Hermione asserted. She felt a real desire to bristle.

"And I asked last but I still deserve an answer." Harry declared.

"We're not talking about me! We're talking about you! You're the one hinting you could be dating someone!"

"And how would you feel about  _that_? Me dating?"

All of the playfulness that had been present in the beginning of their conversation was abandoned by this point. They were staring steadfastly at one another and Hermione's heart was beating faster than it had been. Harry still had her hand in his but had ceased swinging them; now, he was squeezing it without either of them realizing. A surge of that energy had also engulfed them and the witch recognized it right away as the one that swirled around them during Harry's last outburst.

_I wouldn't like it unless it was me_ , Hermione shouted at him as they looked into one another's eyes.  _I've had to witness it twice before; maybe it's my turn!_ She blushed at her brain's insistence and broke eye contact, worried her gaze would convey this message.

"I'd be happy for you. Just like Ron," she mumbled, sounding anything but convincing. The wizard watched her for a moment longer before turning away at last.

"Well I'm not dating but I  _do_ have a witch in mind," he casually revealed. Hermione felt her mouth drop open as she peered at him once more with her brow drawn in sad disbelief before she could stop it. Harry noticed and smiled slightly.

"No worries. You'd approve of her. I'm sure of it," he commented.

She did not have a reply but he did not seem to mind. He slowly started swinging their hands again while he looked out at the crowd and the brunette felt a calming sense of acceptance wash over her. It even turned into mild serenity when she felt that soothing sense unique to Harry return and coax a tiny smile out of her. He struggled to keep a giddy laugh from bubbling up not long afterward when he felt a tempting jolt he had labeled as Hermione's magic knock against his own, and he knew only so much more time would pass before he faced what was happening between them head on.

And he hoped the collision would be fantastic.

* * *

It commenced like most other Saturdays had within the past year, which was to say nothing eventful occurred at the onset. Harry and Ron slept in until 11:30AM and Hermione was over roughly an hour later, expecting to eat lunch within 30 minutes while the wizards had just finished breakfast. Harry idly thought of his 19th birthday in about two weeks time and considered what to do while he prepared for the day. The largest difference with this Saturday was that the members of the trio were not going to spend their time as a trio past 2 o'clock, which was the current time. The red headed member was gone and the remaining members were pilfering the library of Grimmauld at the female member's insistence before they saw to their own affairs.

"I remember seeing a book related to my project at work and I just want to make sure I wasn't imagining it!," Hermione informed Harry before she they left for the townhome, "You'll let me borrow it if it  _is_ there, yes?"

Her question had been pointless because of course Harry would let her have, and not merely borrow, any book she wanted, and he had joked that of  _course_  it existed because she had subconsciously cataloged every tome in the library long ago. As it was now, he was leaning against one of the room's window sills and watching Hermione flit about the space, searching for the book she wanted. They were going to visit Andromeda and Teddy at 2:30PM, a monthly visit from which Harry did not stray. Ron, meanwhile, was out on his first date with Monica, the Auror in their cohort.

When Hermione found out it was happening at the start of the week, it resulted in an awkward yet much needed conversation between her and Ron.

"I won't go out with her if you don't want me to!" he declared a bit wildly.

"What?! Ron! Why would I not want you to?!" she inquired, appearing flabbergasted.

Ron sighed and seemed to deflate a tad. He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated what to say next.

"You know, after the Battle, after that… after our  _kiss_ , we never did anything," the pureblood attested. The corresponding silence seemed to throb with gravity and Hermione wanted to blush. They had not spoken about that moment in a year.

"I know," she admitted in a low voice.

"Why don't you think we did?"

"I don't know... I suppose  _I_ was waiting on you, which wasn't exactly fair: putting the expectation totally on you."

"Were you scared?," Ron asked. She looked at him seriously and he met the gaze before dropping it, "Yeah. Reckon I was too." He kicked at nothing, his discomfort obvious.

"But... it's not a  _bad_  thing that nothing came after that, Ron," she offered.

"It's not?"

"We were both too afraid to make a next move, during our years at Hogwarts  _and_  after the Battle. I think that says a lot. Maybe it just wasn't meant for us, and that's why nothing further ever happened."

"Yeah. Maybe," he said after a long moment of reflection.

"Go on your date, Ron. Have a good time. If you like this girl, don't be afraid to make the next move." Hermione stated, smiling encouragingly.

"A chess maven like myself can't afford not to," the red head answered, finally smiling himself after one last pause.

The conversation had left both participants feeling lighter but Hermione felt invigorated as well. Any vestige of guilt she felt about Ron was now free to be gone, which of course invited any parallel guilt tied to her long established desire for Harry to also leave.  _Not_  that she was going to get together with Harry all of a sudden because Ron had his eye on someone else… and because Ginny happened to be occupied as well. It was simply nice knowing these were no longer factors as to why he was off limits! It added to Hermione's good mood for the week, a mood she still carried with her as she bounced around Grimmauld's library and her dark haired companion stood unobtrusively on the sidelines.

She was so caught up in her own musings that she did not register how quiet Harry was being. Oddly quiet. In fact, anyone observing him would have declared that he looked like a predator tracking his prey's- Hermione's- moves. He had felt Hermione's magic pulse against his own much more this past week and it had gotten harder to ignore; he even felt it in spurts right now in this library! Harry did not know what was going on for her or if something had changed, but, as he watched this lovely, brilliant woman prance around his inherited library, he decided it was a sign. It was time to act. After being knocked over by the truth of Meknikov's theory over a month ago, he was going to do something about it.

Harry's fingers clenched the sill before he pushed himself off and moved forward. He did not get to her before her attention switched to him.

"Harry!," exclaimed Hermione, crossing the distance to him, "I found it!" She brandished the book at him.

"Well done," he said, smiling a bit.

"Organizing the books by subject last summer was time well spent. Otherwise I would've still been looking!"

"Mmm."

"I can return it in two weeks, mostly likely," she notified, looking it over.

"Nah. Keep it." Harry remarked, looking  _her_  over.

"Harry-"

"Hermione, just keep it. You use this library way more than I do. You could have the library  _itself_ if you wanted..."

Hermione felt her face flush so she stopped looking at him and mumbled her gratitude.

"You're too kind, Harry," she noted. He shrugged before changing the topic.

"So, my magic hasn't acted up since last month," the wizard reported. Her face lit up.

"It's been a month already?! Oh! No outbursts in a month!"

"No outbursts in a month."

"Harry, this is  _huge_!," Hermione attested, grinning and hopping once, "This is the longest you've gone without them!"

"And I don't expect them to come back." Harry added.

"Healer Meknikov's theory, then?"

"Yeah. I've come to accept it. And now that I have, it seems unbelievable that it took this long."

"What matters is that you  _do_ , that your magic won't be unpredictable any longer!," she stated. A sly look then molded her countenance, "Does this mean you're ready to tell me what the theory is?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat before it began thumping harder. He felt another magical push from her and fleetingly closed his eyes.

"You want to know?" he posed, peering at her once more. His jaw was set as if bracing himself.

"Of course!"

Hermione still sounded upbeat but she noticed the minor change in him and it caused her to hesitate for a second. Harry stared at her before nodding his approval; he took the book from her grasp and tossed it on a nearby chaise chair. She watched the book's journey in surprise with her mouth faintly open but it snapped shut when she looked at him again. He appeared so  _intense_ , like he had a few times these past months while interacting with her, but especially as he had the night he destroyed all the lights in his apartment. Hermione felt everything within her tense.

"The theory involves you, Hermione. Actually, it's all about you," explained Harry with an unwavering gaze. She tried to take in a breath but it was difficult because most of it had left her.

" _Me_?" she managed to get out.

"Yes."

"Wh… what… why..."

He took a step closer.

"Do you remember Meknikov saying the Horcrux suppressed certain, good feelings within me?" prompted Harry.

"Y-Yes." Hermione said.

"Well, he thought those feelings were for  _you_. He thought my feelings for you went beyond friendship, even deep friendship. He thought I cared for you as something more," His hand had raised and lingered near her face, "And, with the Horcrux gone, I could see, and accept, those feelings."

His thumb brushed over her cheek and Hermione breathed much faster than normal. Her brain was spinning with the revelation of the theory and, more importantly, Harry's  _acceptance_ of it.

Oh God, she was going to pass out on the carpet.

"Harry-" she rasped out. But what was she even going to say?!

"I never had an outburst unless you were there, Hermione," he claimed. His hand was now holding one side of her face and he took another step closer. One more and there would be no space between them.

Hermione's eyes had gone wide and her mouth was gaping. She probably looked ludicrous as she stared up at him but the weight of the situation was still sinking into her brain.

"I think kissing you would be a great way to test the theory." Harry mentioned.

An unexpected warble left her throat but this is not what Harry took notice of. He paid attention to the sizable surge of magic that thrusted against his and  _this_ is what he took as her answer. Feeling exhilarated, he kept the one hand on her face while his other arm curled around her waist and pulled her fully into him. He then bent his head and placed his lips on hers.

It felt like magic exploded around them. Hermione recalled the energy in the air during Harry's last outburst and how stimulating it had been, but it was absolutely trifling compared to the atmosphere their kiss was creating now. It felt like their magic was simultaneously ramming into the other and flowing in synchrony. It was both outside and inside their bodies. The magical energy intertwined in a fascinating way and it heightened the sensations of the two people connected hungrily by their mouths.

_Right right right right right! This is RIGHT!_  It was the only thought Hermione's mind could produce as the rest of it was preoccupied with how amazing it felt kissing Harry. She did not register they were moving until her back hit the wall; the jostle caused their lips to separate for a second and her body instinctively gulped in as much oxygen as it could. He was back on her in no time. His hands had already roamed everything they could reach in a frenzy but they demanded more. Her hands had initially clutched his shirt's front, as though it was a life jacket and she was stranded in the sea, but her arms were now snaked around his neck while she was pressed into the wall.

The only conscious connection between Harry's brain and body was the message to maintain how good this felt. He was not really aware of what his body was doing and his mind was only giving him garbled nonsense. He did not know, for example, that Hermione started moaning because he pushed his tongue into her mouth. He also did not know that his hands had gone under her shirt, which was the reason the tantalizing experience between them was brought to an end.

Hermione pulled away from his mouth. She said his name and tapped his chest where her hands still rested as she struggled to get her breathing back under control. Harry's chest was heaving and he was taking in gulps of air as he took stock of their physical states. That had gotten heated without intention…. He wanted to blame their magic.

"Sorry," he apologized. Hermione smiled at how scratchy his voice sounded.

"Don't be. I'm not," she breathed out. He gave her a magnificent smile in return.

"Well that was something."

"That it was." She laughed, looking nothing less than blissful. He moved some hair that had fallen in her face out of the way, appearing thrilled himself.

"I think the test went well. And I think the theory can be put to rest," said Harry.

"Oh?" Hermione wondered, hands still on his chest. He nodded.

"Definitely. As it turns out, you were the reason for my magic going crazy. But you also happen to be the solution."

The grins they gave one another were dopey but as loving as could be, and they only disappeared once Harry moved in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this story to happen over a year's time. I suppose I originally imagined it would resolve in maybe half that time but I'm glad it turned out to be a year. A year feels right as far as Harry working through his feelings for Hermione in a post-Voldemort world.
> 
> I want to start writing my next Harmony brain child now that this one's finished but I'm denying myself that pleasure until I churn out a few more chapters of Years From Now. I've been neglecting that story too much.


End file.
